


Truth Speaker

by etymolodrarry



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: A Court of Thorns and Roses - Freeform, Azriel - Freeform, Cassian - Freeform, Coming Out, Gay, Gen, LGBT, Lesbian, Lucien - Freeform, The Morrigan - Freeform, a court of frost and starlight, a court of mist and fury, a court of wings and ruin - Freeform, feyre - Freeform, first person POV, mor, some feysand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25639360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etymolodrarry/pseuds/etymolodrarry
Summary: It's been less than a year since Hybern fell, and Mor has decided it's finally time to tell her friends the truth.
Relationships: (not the focus of this fic), Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	Truth Speaker

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this two years ago for my English final exam (I got an A) and I'm posting it on here because my ibf is a fanfic snob and only reads on ao3 :') original title on wattpad and fanfiction.net is "A Court of Storms and Moonlight."

****spoilers for A Court Of Wings and Ruin****

**Feyre POV**

I rushed down into the townhouse sitting room, late for celebrating Mor’s five-hundred-and-somethingth birthday. While her birthday was a bit of a sore spot because of her past, Rhys always went out of his way to celebrate it as a distraction for her.

Azriel sat on the couch to Mor’s left, telling her a story as she listened intently. He smiled softly as she cackled with laughter, a slight blush creeping onto his face. Mor reached for her drink, avoiding his intense hazel eyes fixed on her. I slid into the love-seat across from them as Rhys shot me an amused glance. I wondered if they noticed how late I was.

 _Oh, we noticed,_ Rhys said through the bond, _What kept you so long, Feyre darling?_

I decided to not respond, instead holding up a letter for everyone to see before tossing it on the low-lying table in front of the fire. “Word came from Lucien,” I commented.

Cassian sat forward in the armchair across from the hearth. “Good or bad?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Mostly good. Rebuilding efforts in the Mortal Lands are going smoothly. The majority of trouble is coming from Graysen.” I rolled my eyes at the thought of my sister’s former fiancé. “He’s resisting every plan suggested by Lucien or any of the other Fae.”

Mor pursed her lips. “Any updates from Amren?”

I shook my head. “Nothing since her letter from Montesere last week.” For the last few months, Amren had been working on developing stronger relations with the nearby territories. I was about to comment on Amren’s progress when the scent of food wafted in from the kitchen.

Nuala and Cerridwen bustled down the hallway, each with a serving platter stacked high with various dishes. Before I had a chance to react, Mor and Cassian jumped out of their seats and raced for the dining table. I rolled my eyes and stood, heading for the kitchen to help the twins with the rest of the food.

An impressive spread of food laid on the table, and Cassian was already halfway through his mashed potatoes and roasted carrots. He paused only to eye the the platter of honey glazed ham in my hands, following it with his eyes as I sat at the dining table and dug in.

The first few minutes were silent as we helped ourselves to the platters of food and began eating. Mor made a face at the sight of Cassian shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth, and muttered a comment to Azriel that earned her a sly smile.

Mor peered at me over the rim of her glass as she drank deeply, her eyes suddenly full of tension nervousness. As Mor returned to her food, Azriel noticed the slight change in her demeanor and sat up straighter, as if to be more alert. He had a knack for detecting even the slightest change in someone’s emotions.

Mor set down her fork and folded her hands in her lap as the laughter surrounding the table died down. She concentrated on her now empty plate in front of her before flicking her pleading eyes up at me.

 _What’s wrong?_ Rhys sent a thought down the bond.

 _I’m not sure,_ I thought back. _Has she been okay recently?_

Mor glanced at me before looking down at her plate again. “I haven’t been very honest with you guys,” she gnawed on her lip. “I… have something I need to tell you. I never told anyone until recently, when I told Feyre,” Mor gave a nervous, breathy laugh. “After she made me realize that I needed to say it.”

Oh. _Oh_.

Rhys looked at me in confusion, but waited for Mor to continue.

“The longer I take to tell you,” Mor swallowed hard, “The harder it gets until it spirals out of control and now its five hundred years later and I’m still hiding it from all of you.” Her hands were clasped hard in her lap to hide their shaking. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and exhaled loudly through her nose as everyone sat and listened. She turned to Azriel and said quietly, “For starters… Azriel, I do love you. But not like that. Only as my family and not… anything more.”

We carefully watched Azriel as his expression faltered, a faint blush appearing across his cheeks before he regained his composure. Azriel had had feelings for Mor for centuries, but we all chose to stay out of it. “Okay,” He responded, equally as quietly.

Mor shifted away from Azriel. “I… it’s complicated. I don’t know how to explain.”

“You don’t have to explain anything,” Rhys told her gently. “Is this all you wanted to tell us?”

Mor shook her head quickly. “No—no, its—I…” She wiped her shaky hands over her face. “This whole time I’ve been lying to you.” Mor paused, adding with an anxious laugh, “I’ve been lying for five hundred years.”

Rhys stayed quiet, waiting for her to gather her words—the never ending patience of a High Lord. Cassian looked like he was about to speak, but a subtle shake of Rhys' head stopped him.

Mor rested her forearms on the table, hunched over her empty plate. She took a shaky breath, “Azriel, I’m sorry. I truly am. I tried, but I just couldn’t. I can’t love you like that,” She paused. Her hands had started shaking against the table, and Cassian gently rested his hand on her forearm. Mor flinched ever so slightly and shut her eyes, tears rolling down her face.

When she didn’t continue, Azriel sat forward. "That's okay," he said carefully. He seemed to have quickly gotten over the rejection at the sight of seeing Mor so distressed. His eyes were filled with worry instead of hurt.

Mor’s hands clenched into fists, her nails now digging into her skin as if to convince herself that this was a bad dream. She seemed to be holding her breath.

“When you found me in the Summer Court, with that note nailed into my stomach, I tried to explain why I—why I _sullied_ myself to escape the betrothal. But I panicked, and then you started to tell me how you felt. I didn’t know what to do, so I just turned and left.

“I didn’t know how I could explain that. And since then...” Mor shook her head. “It’s so stupid. It’s stupid and awful that I do this. For the last five-hundred years, _every time_ you make your feelings clear, I go and make sure to do the opposite. I go and sleep with males to—to remind you that I’m not interested. Because I’m too cowardly to even tell you, much less explain _why_ I’m not interested.” She paused. Mor’s eyes were lined with the beginnings of tears and her hands had started shaking against the table.

Cassian reached forward and gently rested his hand on her forearm. She flinched ever so slightly and shut her eyes, tears leaking from the corners and rolling down her face. 

There was a long pause before any of us spoke. “Why aren’t you?” Azriel asked gently.

Mor inhaled deeply and held it briefly as if she were stretching her lungs. “Because I prefer females.” She spoke firmly, but her voice was still thick with tears. “I—I do enjoy both. But… I’ve known since I was a child that I prefer females.” She looked around the table with silver-lined eyes that were filled with fear.

Cassian’s eyes softened at her expression. “You don’t—you don’t think that we won’t accept you, right?”

Mor’s shoulders curled inward and she hiccuped, fresh tears sliding over the dried ones. “I don’t know,” She said. “I don’t even know if I—if I accept _myself_. I was so scared that one of you would catch on, and I couldn’t risk my family finding out. I still _am_ terrified of them finding out. It would destroy me.” Her voice broke. “Everything they did to me… the betrothal, the torture, the note… no matter how hard they tried, I never broke because I knew I still had this one part of me. The only part left untouched and wholly mine. If they found out… I don’t know what I would do.”

Rhys reached across the table, resting his hand over his cousin’s. “I’m sorry,” he said thickly, before clearing his throat, “that—that you’ve been scared for so long.” He swallowed. “But I will do everything in my power to keep this from them. You know I will.” Rhys paused as tears began falling down Mor’s face again. “I don’t just accept you, Mor. I _support_ you. _We_ support you. You are always accepted here, in Velaris and in my court. The person you are hasn’t changed—but hopefully you can be happier now.” Rhys smiled sadly.

Azriel nodded. He had been silent for awhile. _Is he okay?_ I asked Rhys through the bond.

_He’ll be okay. He has closure now._

  
“Did you… only have male lovers, then?” Cassian asked.

Mor shook her head. “The females were always secret. They never liked that, so it never lasted. Males… I never felt for them as deeply. The bond was never as strong. It never felt like…” She trailed off and clenched her eyes shut.

“Felt like what?” Azriel asked softly.

Mor took a shaky breath and wiped her face. “I… during the War, I took my first female lover. We were all busy and traveling, and I was alone for months at a time. It was safe. Her name was—” Mor hiccupped, and flashed across Cassian’s face as he realized what was meant. “Her name was Andromache.”

“Was.” Azriel repeated quietly.

“She—She was human,” Mor clarified, stifling a sob. “And she was beautiful and... I loved her,” She sniffled. “So much. But the War ended and I had to come home. The Wall went up that day. I tried to cross it over and over again. It took me three years to find a hole to cross. To get to her. When I finally did, she was married, with a child and she had another on the way. So I went home. I didn’t even try to see her.” Mor was gripping her arms again, tears still running down her face.

I reached for Mor and gently stroked her forearm.

She closed her eyes again. “I didn’t take any lovers for a few decades after she passed. And when I did… it’s never the same. It never feels as strong as her.”

“I’m sorry,” Rhys spoke, his voice soft, close to breaking. “I hope that you will find someone who will make you as happy as… as Andromache did. I’m sorry—I’m sorry that I never noticed your unhappiness,” He added guiltily. “I never noticed anything.”

“What was there to notice?” Mor gave him a small shrug. “Even if you realized I was unhappy, you couldn’t have guessed why.” 

Rhys smiled sadly. “I’m glad you told us,” he said. “I don’t know if you realize how brave that you. I’m proud to call you my cousin.”

Mor smiled softly, prompting her watery eyes to overflow and spill more tears down her cheeks.

Rhys glanced around the table as if finally realizing that the food had grown cold, and raised an eyebrow at Mor. “Are we still going out tonight?”

Mor nodded and wiped her red eyes one more time. “I want to, yeah. I think I’ve had enough crying for one night, anyways.

* * *

“I hope she finds someone.” Rhys sipped from his drink, glancing at Mor, who was engaged in conversation with the barmaid at Rita’s. “Someone who will make her happy.

“Me, too,” I replied. “Do you think she will? I mean… Do you think Andromache was her mate?”

Rhys sighed. “It’s hard to say. It could be that she just hasn’t been comfortable. But if they were mates… she may still find someone. Fae don’t always have or find their Mate, and some choose to ignore the mating bond even after it has slipped into place.” He swirled his glass of wine. “When did she tell you?”

My head snapped up. I’d forgotten that Mor told me before anyone else. “Before Azriel and I winnowed to Hybern’s camp. Mor and I… we got into a fight because I lied to her when I went to find the Suriel. I called her a liar because of her feelings regarding Azriel. Then she kicked me out of her tent.” I explained. “After Azriel and I returned, she told me she prayed to the Mother that she would tell me if we made it back safely.”

Rhys nodded in understanding. “Seems like She enjoyed that bargain,” He laughed.

I smiled, but suddenly I felt awkward and guilty. “I’m sorry,” I said to him.

“Why are you sorry?” he furrowed his brow in confusion.

“That I hid it from you,” I said. “I promised her I wouldn’t tell even you.”

Rhys smiled softly. “Feyre…” He sighed, gently placing his hand on my. “You did the right thing. It wasn’t your secret to tell; I have no reason to be angry at you.”

I smiled at him, and turned to watch Mor, who was still chatting animatedly with the barmaid. “Is—is she flirting?” I asked as Mor leaned on the bar. Her cheeks were flushed, despite the nightclub’s cool atmosphere. She carefully shifted forward, moving so that their arms were nearly touching. She continued to converse nonchalantly, taking a sip of her drink as she listened. 

Rhys grinned. “Definitely flirting.” 


End file.
